


Power Couple Prom-posal

by CelticPixie



Series: Modern High School AU [2]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternative Universe - Modern High School, JROTC Military Ball, Lacrosse, M/M, adorable OTP being adorable, senior year stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 06:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticPixie/pseuds/CelticPixie
Summary: Lacrosse captain Mike “Gunny” Wynn wants to take his boyfriend, Class President Nate Fick, to the school JROTC ball, but first he has to battle a Dartmouth entrance essay for his attention.





	Power Couple Prom-posal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsRidcully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRidcully/gifts).



> ok so I promised this to [MrsRidcully](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRidcully) and its like two days after I said it would be finished, but late is better than never, right?

“Hey Mrs. Fick. Is Nate up yet?” Mike asked, smiling at Nate’s mother as she walked back to the kitchen from opening the door for him.

“Not yet. You wanna run up and get him up for me, Mike? You know how he’s been lately,” she says, looking over her shoulder at him from her computer. Mike nodded and jogged up the stairs to Nate’s room. For the past month, all Nate had been focused on was his application to Dartmouth, and he’d been slaving over his essay for over a week. 

When Mike opened Nate’s bedroom door to find his boyfriend not in his bed but passed out cold at his desk, he wasn’t even surprised. He sighed but smiled fondly as he made his way over, maneuvering carefully through the minefield that was Nate’s room. Normally it was spotless, but the tidiness of the room was a clear window into Nate’s mind. When he got stressed, the room went to shit. 

Stepping around a particularly precarious stack of textbooks, Mike finally reached Nate’s desk and shook his boyfriend’s shoulder gently, laughing to himself when he saw Nate had fallen asleep right on his laptop.

“Nate. Nate, come on, Babe, you promised you’d come running with me today,” he tried, but the prospective college student was dead to the world. Mike began to wonder when Nate had finally succumbed to his exhaustion as he shook him more forcefully. “Nate, come on buddy. Nate!” 

Finally Nate responded, but only with a small groan and a shift of his shoulders away from Mike. Unfortunately, that small shift was just enough to disrupt his shaky-at-best position and suddenly Nate was wide awake, crashing to the floor. Luckily, he landed on a pile of clothes, but Mike had no idea if they were clean and had no intention of finding out. Nate groaned again and rolled onto his chest, face down into a wrinkled t-shirt.

“Oh no you don’t, you gotta get up,” Mike said, nudging Nate with his foot, only to receive another groan and a muffled response that was probably  _ fuck off _ . “Come on, you promised you’d run with me today,” Mike tried again.

“Don’t wanna. Go away,” Nate grunted, curling in on himself, and Mike grinned at his boyfriend’s antics.

“Oh, don’t give me that. What would everyone think if they saw their class president going back on his word?” Mike teased and Nate groaned again.

“They’d agree with me. No one should be awake at an ungodly hour like this,” Nate muttered, but Mike knew he was winning. Nate was starting to speak in complete sentences.

“Come on,” Mike said with a grin, grabbing Nate’s hand and hauling him to his feet. He half expected Nate to collapse in a heap just to be dramatic, but he stayed on his feet, pouring childishly instead. 

“You're so mean to me,” he whined, but smiled when Mike pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I know, I'm really cruel, but we gotta start running. You wanna be track captain, right?” he asked, pushing Nate towards the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. 

“You're such a fucking nag,” Nate said without any real heat as he stumbled out of the room. Mike laughed to himself as he followed him out, making sure Nate actually started getting ready before heading back downstairs.

“He up?” Mrs. Fick asked over her shoulder when Mike came into the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mike said, sitting down at the counter. 

“I told you to stop calling me ‘ma’am’, Michael,” she chided and he laughed politely.

“Sorry, force of habit,” he grinned before turning to his phone. Already at 7am, Ray was text-bombing him about his plans for asking Nate to the JROTC ball. He swiped the texts off the screen only for them to be quickly replaced with more, asking for details and reminding him that time is running out and he could see that he was reading his texts Gunny, stop being a dick. He laughed to himself a little and stuck his phone back in his pocket without responding. It would only encourage him. 

He started up an awkward conversation with Nate’s mother as they waited, declining the offered coffee and pancakes because he’d eaten before leaving home. Thankfully, he was quickly rescued by Nate coming down the stairs, dressed in his running clothes and finally looking just this side of awake.

“Hey, mom,” he mumbled, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and stealing one of her slices of toast. 

“Oh sure, help yourself,” she said, batting at him, but he just smiled a little and took a swig of her coffee too.

“We’ll be back later,” he told her through a mouthful of toast, grabbing Mike by the hand as he passed him and dragging him out the door with him.

“Have fun!” she called and Mike grinned at the way Nate blushed in embarrassment. Once they were out the door, Mike waited for Nate to cram the rest of the toast in his mouth before starting down the driveway.

“Come on, I wanna get four miles in,” he said, walking backwards to look at Nate. He grinned when Nate threw his head back in defeat before sighing.

“Fine, but know that I hate you,” Nate conceded, jogging to catch up.

“You can’t make cross country captain without being able to carry your weight,” he teased and Nate glared at him.

“I was captain last year, which makes me captain this year, and you know Coach loves me anyway,” he pointed out as they fell into step.

“I don’t know, maybe Schwetje will bump you out this year.” For that comment, Mike earned a whack on the head.

“Don’t even joke about that, you son of a bitch,” Nate swore, glaring again.

“What, worried about Encino Man and Casey Kasem this year, are we?” Mike asked, taking off running as Nate went to hit him again. “Gotta be faster than that, loser!”

~–~–~

Coach Stephen 'Godfather' Ferrando expected a lot from his team. Every game was The Big Game, and he’d be damned if they were gonna break a two year winning streak on his watch. He worked his boys for two hours every day after school and expected at least eight hours of independent exercise over the weekends. 

Tonight was another one of Godfather’s Big Games, and Nate wanted to be there, he really did, but he needed to finish this essay. The word limit was going to be the death of him, and every time he had to add something he had to sacrifice something else. 

He was in the process of deleting and adding and deleting again when someone burst into his room and he jumped so hard his headphones fell off and onto the floor. 

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck!” He yelped, nearly falling off his chair as Ray Person barged into his room, dressed in his lax uniform and brandishing his stick like a weapon.

“Come on, don’t make me late to my game,” he said, like Nate knew what he was talking about. 

“Ray, what the fuck,” Nate said again, staring at his friend like he was fucking insane because he was. Ray groaned and threw his head back dramatically.

“You’re coming to the lacrosse game tonight. Come on, homes, you’ve been freaking out about that essay for like two weeks. You need a break. You’re coming,” he said, reaching out and grabbing Nate’s arm, pulling him out of his chair. “Come on, you know Gunny needs his lucky charm to play.” 

With that, Nate allowed himself to be dragged down the stairs, a jacket thrust into his arms, and then sat down in the passenger seat of Ray’s truck. He knew he needed to be away from the essay. Coming back to it later with fresh eyes would be good. He had time before he had to send it in.

When they got to the school, Ray all but threw Nate at Walt and Tim before bolting for the field where Godfather or Iceman was probably waiting to kick his ass for being late.

Both Walt and Tim were giving him weird glances as they waded through freshmen to get to the bleachers, but they were obviously trying to be sneaky about it, so Nate refrained from asking. It was always better just not to know, with his friends. 

~–~–~

The game went on without a hitch. No injuries, the boys won 24-13, and Nate didn’t end up covered in paint and/or mud like the last two times his friends started getting twitchy. Like always, Nate remained in the bleachers as the rest of the students filed out, keeping up his conversation with Walt and Tim as they waited for the crowd to pass. It was easier just to wait until the way was more clear. 

“NATHANIEL!! PAY ATTENTION WHEN YOUR BOYFRIEND IS BEING EMBARRASSING!!!” 

Nate whipped around at Ray’s shrill order, flushing bright red when he saw Mike standing at the edge of the field holding a large poster covered in green glittered that read  **“Ditch The Dartmouth Essay And Be My Date To Mil Ball, Maybe?”** and grinning widely.

Mike had done this every year since they started dating as freshmen, alliteration and stupid cheesiness included, but Nate still ducked his head in embarrassment and tried to hide his bright smile at his boyfriend’s antics. 

“Get down there, Nate. I’m embarrassed for you, now,” Tim said, shoving Nate up from his seat and over to the stairs. Shaking his head, Nate climbed down the bleachers, vaulted the fence between the field and the stands, and went straight to Mike, giving him his answer by pulling him into a firm kiss by the front of his jersey. The crowd responded with a mix of cheers and groans of “get a fucking room.”

When they separated, Mike was grinning even wider.

“So is that a yes?” He asked, cheekily and Nate scoffed.

“Of course not, why would I go to mil ball with a loser like my boyfriend?” He retorted, smiling equally as wide and kissing him again. 


End file.
